“You can’t. After lunch we’re going to Sergei’s.”

“Who?”

“Only the hottest stylist in town right now, booked for months, but he owes me a favor—I introduced him to his husband—so he’ll see you. And he’ll give you a discount on the cut.”

She shook her head and set his glass down. “No, Jonas. No hair cut. No Sergei.”

“But you’re so closed to goddess-hood!” he wailed.

“Goddess-hood? Oh, Jonas. We have to stop. You’re going to give me a swelled head. Soon I’ll forget I’m a middle-aged frump and then where would we be?”

He stared at her. “Frump? Frump?” he repeated, incredulous. Okay, maybe that last one was a little loud; the table in front of them turned to look.

“Dr. Barb, when we were in that department store with all the mirrors, did you bother to look in any of them? You’re as far from a frump as—as—” He groped for a simile. Or was it a metaphor? “As Fred is from Miss Congeniality.”

She reached across the table and took his hand. Took. His. Hand! “Jonas, you’re so sweet. You’ve given my ego such a boost, I can’t thank you enough. And I’m thrilled that you see me that way, really I am, even if I can’t quite make that leap myself. Now, you’ve done so much for me I’d like to do something for you. Tell me about this crush you have. Maybe we can get you hooked up, as the kids say.”

Oh. Gulp. “Well… I’ve known this person for years but haven’t really screwed up the courage to get to know them very well. I can hardly even be in the same room—you know how it is.”

Dr. Barb nodded. “Now, Jonas, you listen to me.”

“Sterner.”

She looked puzzled, but raised and hardened her voice. “Now, Jonas, you listen to me.” He got all tingly when she used her schoolteacher voice. “You are a wonderful guy: handsome, funny, smart, sweet. You’re going to make some man very happy. The trick is finding Mr. Right, as they say.”

“What?”

“You’ve got a lot to offer some lucky fellow, and I’m sure the gentleman you’ve got a crush on will see that if you can just get to know him a little better.”

“But—” In his surprise, he blurted out the truth. “But you’re the gentleman I’ve got a crush on!”

They stared at: each other. Dr. Barb froze with her ginger ale halfway to her mouth. And Jonas cursed himself. This wasn’t the first time a woman had assumed he was gay, but he never dreamed that Dr, Barb would think—Couldn’t she tell he could hardly keep his hands—Couldn’t she tell?

“But—you’re gay. You’re Dr. Bimm’s gay best friend.”

“I’m not gay.”

“But you are.”

“Dr. Barb,” he snapped, “I think I would know, okay? Trust me, I’m not even bi. I’m just very very very secure in my masculinity, okay?”

Color began to climb in her face. “But—you like to—”

“Metrosexual.”

“But you also like—”